


The Daybreak Ritual

by Strings (fangirlgeekout)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, TWP - Tickles Without Plot, Tickling, Ticklish Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 08:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13760007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlgeekout/pseuds/Strings
Summary: He’d long since banished the word “girly” from his brain when it came to mornings. Anything that felt this nice, even something that could be calledcuddling, was fair game if it happened before 10 AM. And then again after nine o'clock at night. Maybe eight. Seven if it had been a rough day. And weekends were extenuating circumstances.





	The Daybreak Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted Jan 2014 on [Tumblr](http://wordstrings.tumblr.com/post/74009000830/the-daybreak-ritual).

Pale light glowed through Dean’s closed eyelids and warmed the back of his neck, gently tugging him across the threshold into consciousness. He drew a long breath through his nose and held it for a moment while arching his spine to stretch out the dull ache, then exhaled and allowed his eyes to flutter open. He didn’t bother lifting his head to look at the clock; it was early, that was all that mattered. He could probably get away with drifting in and out of sleep for another hour or two.

There was a shift in the sheets to his right. He didn’t have to turn his head to know each move his partner was making - readjusting the pillow, stretching both legs, then… there it was, a nuzzle at his shoulder, a hand sliding down over his lumbar. Dean maneuvered onto his side and hummed when the sleepwarm body pressed fully against his back, slotting knees under his thighs and an arm over his torso. A contented sigh thrummed against the nape of his neck.

He’d long since banished the word “girly” from his brain when it came to mornings. Anything that felt this nice, even something that could be called  _cuddling_ , was fair game if it happened before 10 AM. And then again after nine o'clock at night. Maybe eight. Seven if it had been a rough day. And weekends were extenuating circumstances.

The arm slung over his trunk squeezed once, then the hand splayed out and started rubbing gentle circles on his chest with its thumb. Judging by the way the form was nestled at his back, the other arm was folded up between their bodies, probably with the hand tucked between the pillow and a stubbled cheek.

“G’d m'rning, Dean,” came a leisurely murmur.

The hunter tilted back until he could see those brilliant blue eyes, half-lidded in the filtered light. “Mornin’, hotwings.”

“ _Mmm_.” Castiel burrowed down into the pillow and pulled Dean closer.

Cas’ hand trailed down the hunter’s chest and came to rest on his stomach. Dean hummed and closed his eyes again, then eased up on his elbow to allow a second arm to slip under his chest and wrap around his ribcage. Nothing mattered but  _warm_  and  _comfortable_  and  _content_.

The hand on his stomach slowly curled into a loose fist, then bloomed open again, dragging fingertips across his skin. A nose pressed into his hairline and exhaled, and Dean tried to suppress a subtle shiver. The fingers on his belly had adopted a steady motion, circling delicately, occasionally catching on the rim of his navel. He twitched faintly, but snuggled back and dropped his shoulder in invitation. The warm breath nudged its way up his exposed neck, and Dean’s shiver was less subtle when lips pinched softly at the flesh under his jaw.

Circling fingers dipped lower on his abdomen, and Dean shifted his hips, huffing a light breath through his nose. The arm around his chest cinched just a bit tighter, and the fingers started exploring a little further, drawing slow little swirls and spirals all along the skin between his hipbones.

“Cas…” Dean smiled sleepily.

“Hmm?” Cas nosed up behind his ear and snuffled.

Dean’s smile grew, and he hunched up his shoulder to cut off the previously granted access. “What’re you doin’?”

“Nothing.” The nose tried to wedge its way back in, huffing at the crevices between neck and shoulder.

The hunter squirmed and stifled a chuckle. “ _Nothing_ , my ass.”

“That could be arranged.”

The soft fingers abandoned his stomach and caressed down his side, knuckles trailing over the curve of his waist. Dean’s breath hitched when the hand palmed over his hip and gripped gently. Then lips were playing over the back of his neck, teasing at the short hairs and nipping the knob of his spine. He hummed and shivered again before allowing his shoulder to retreat, reopening his neck and providing a distraction away from anything below his chest.

Cas took the bait and dove back into the crook of his neck, pecking and nibbling until Dean outright giggled. That seemed to remind him - the hand on the hunter’s hip squeezed, and Dean curled.

“Don’t,” he pleaded with a chuckle. The squeeze didn’t come again, but the palm lifted and Cas’ nails started tracing patterns over the sensitive skin. Dean fidgeted and grabbed a handful of sheets as goosebumps raced down his thigh. “Cas, you know how bad that-”

“Tickles?” Castiel rumbled into his shoulder. The nails slipped down into the hollow under the bone. Dean buried a laugh in his pillow.

“C'mon, I just want to lay for a little more,” he giggled, squirming.

The motion of the teasing fingers graduated to spidering, but the pressure backed off until they were scarcely touching him. The ghosting, barely-there sensation danced over Dean’s hip, sparking a tremor up his spine.

“Caaas…” he whine-sighed, grinning into the pillow.

“Yes, Dean?" 

The feathery touch lingered around his hips for a moment more before traveling up his side to his ribs, and Dean arched along with the movement. Castiel’s mouth was at his jaw again, suckling a path down his throat. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to giggle or moan, and the sound that came out didn’t really clear things up.

"Mmhmhmm… you are just…” He finally twisted back, displacing both the fingers and the lips as he turned to face those blue eyes fully for the first time that morning. Dean reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of Cas’ neck and pulled him in for a crushing kiss. He could feel Cas smiling into it.

“I am just what?” Cas asked when he finally managed to pull away from the hunter’s demanding grasp.

“Just… shut up and kiss me again.”


End file.
